cambio

theres a change in the wind and im back in texas...

no more posts for now. maybe when i get back to BCN <3

Photos.

I have some of my photography up at a bar and last friday i had a little "fiesta" to celebrate! Here are some photos of the bar, the night, and wonderful friends.

Its great to have your art on the walls but my victory was in the process..learning a new language,finding a bar,talking to the manager in broken spanish,getting together frames and photos in city where you cant just drive to target and pick some up,hanging the photos with the help of my incredible friend silivia,having friends and faces i didn't know 2 months ago come,encourage and celebrate with me!

This day speaks of a glory and it isn't mine.

Art

I have had the opportunity to show some of my art in a cafe. Its in this little Italian piadina place in a great part of the city, Gracia. This neighborhood is full of artists,individuals,inspiration and creativity. I love this barrio.
The art in the pictures are new prints i have been doing in my art class here. I am learning a new technique called grabado. Its similar to printmaking. We have been experimenting with textures and colors. I take classes from a gorgeous dark-skinned catalan. Her name is Nuria and she is 26 and has this incredible studio space in the old city. She paints but also opens her studio up for classes.She plays great music and wears a white apron.She always has paint on her hands.I have decided i want to be just like her...

voice.

I have been completely stripped of my voice. I am in a place that doesn’t speak my language, obviously. I can’t tell jokes, be sarcastic or clever. I didn’t realize how much I depend on my words. I use them as currency to make friends, to make excuses, to build facades, to get what I want. Not always but sometimes. This new silence is a good thing. No more verbal tap-dancing for pennies of affirmation.This environment is preventing all my energies from being spilled out through the rupture of my mouth, exhausting me and filling the world with words, words, words.
Some days I hear over hear English on the metro or in the streets and catch what the conversation is about and the subject is typically (in my opinion) trite or silly. I think we use what we say as filler to awkward moments, to build ourselves up, or to make someone feel comfortable. Maybe these things are fine but I wonder is we can use our words for more. To encourage, rebuke, sharpen, build one another up and glorify the things that should be glorified. So what then should be on our lips? I’m not sure but I am definitely learning to listen and people want to tell their stories…

belleza.

I don’t think I have mentioned how beautiful Barcelona is. The city is soaked in belleza. Everyday I wake up to the city out my window, say a prayer of thanksgiving and whisper buenos dias to my Spanish roommate, Julia. I walk to school on cobblestone streets to learn a new and beautiful language with people from all around the world. I pass by plazas filled with pigeons; I go to parks with orange trees and 500-year-old statues. I paint in a little studio that plays Brazilian music that sits next to a cathedral, which is always lending me its inspiration. People enjoy life here because life is beautiful. You see men in their business suits lying in the middle of the grass taking their siestas. The cafes are filled with coffee and conversation. Couples are always kissing, music is always playing, artist are always creating…
I was reminded of this beauty one day on the metro. I was headed somewhere just like everybody else, going from A to B then back to A from B. I was overcome with the monotony of the metro and its endless cycle, back and forth; round and round like a treadmill. Then a man got on and began to play a song on his accordion. Instantly our metro car came alive. People’s heads came out of their books, smiles spread across their faces, and feet started tapping to the beat.
My friends and I have been talking a lot about art and our role as artists. It seems we have a call to push back darkness in the world. We want to add color where there is gray, life where there is death, joy where there is sorrow... Photography causes your eyes to notice the detail of the world around you. Dance opens your eyes to the movement of the body. Music fills you with feeling.
My friend Andres said that beauty gives sense to things that might not have sense. I think what he says is true. Or at least I know I can’t explain how I feel but when I listen to Coldplay or look at a Van Gogh I know im not the only one.

pensar.

Like most people I am cursed with mind that never stops. Its not intelligent thoughts, its thoughts from the distant past to the unknown future. Touching on dozens ideas a minute, unharnessed and undisciplined. This in itself is not necessarily a problem it’s the emotional attachments that come with the thinking. A happy thought makes me happy but then---quickly to a sad thought and I decide to feel sorry for myself and loneliness follows promptly. The other problems with this is that you are never where you Are, you are always digging in the past or hoping for the future. Its like when you go on vacation and you say, “Oh its so beautiful here I want to come back here.” But we are there.
We just had a group of people come from Oklahoma. There was a guy named Justin among the group who said,” You have to be okay with being where you are.” If your home there will be times you wish you were away and if you’re away there will be times you wish you were home. It reminded me of what Paul says to the Philippians. “ I have learned the secret of being content in any and every situation, whether well fed or hungry, whether living in plenty or in want. I can do everything through him who gives me strength.
I think about my own life and how I am constantly hopping around to adjust myself to discomfort-physical, emotional, psychological. I either spend my time squirming away from some uncomfortable distress or look hungrily toward even more pleasure. I wonder how my life would change if I learned to trust God with my well-being and learn that secret of being content instead of getting dragged along the windy road of circumstance.
All of these questions came back to me one evening when I found a quiet bench to sit at in the park and I had decided to spend some time in prayer. No movement, no agitation, no distractions just focused prayers. As soon as I sat down I began to realize how cold it was and that I didn’t have a jacket. The air was biting and I was uncomfortably chilly. Then I started to think I was a little hungry and that a coffee might warm me up. I thought this is a bad time to pray right now, I need to get a coat and a coffee and then I can focus.
I presented myself with a little experiment-what if I sat through this for once? What if I just was cold for one long hour of my life?
So I did it. I sat there and shivered and got some goose bumps. If I could sit through this non-lethal physical discomfort what other discomforts can I sit through? What about emotional discomforts, which are even harder for me to endure? What about loneliness, boredom, anger, fears?
I realize that this experiment isn’t the most heroic act of history but I have never not quenched a thirst. I have been a puppet to this and a million of other small and large signals of pain or pleasure throughout my life. Whenever something happens I always react.
And I am righting all this because life and Spain is full of discomforts and in seeking the abundant life you have to revert from what attracts you and swim towards which is difficult. You abandon your comforting and familiar habits with the promise that something greater has been offered for you. The bible is full of these paradoxes. Lose your life to find it, the last shall be first, the poor will be rich. It doesn’t make sense but that is where faith pervades and there is a lot to be said about faith…

churros and chocolate

A word about my body. I am gaining weight everyday, of course. There is chocolate on everything. And you don’t just have chocolate for a desert. You have it in the morning with your coffee, in your coffee, for a snack, after your lunch, on your croissant. I’m not exercising (except for walking up 8 flights of stairs if that counts) In my real life, I have been known to eat organic yogurt sprinkled with wheat germ for breakfast. My body is turning a blind eye to my misdoings and over indulgences as if to say live it up, the pastries are hot now. So I think to myself just one more and then Julia and I run out to look for the nearest focacceria.

But at the same time hardly anyone in Spain is overweight. This is for many reasons but one being that people walk everywhere. Not many people have cars. Haley and I saw this poor woman struggling up the street carrying a giant floor lamp in one hand and her sack of groceries in the other. (And she had heels on) Who knows how far she was going and to her it seemed just as easy to carry a purse. I saw a man who had just bought a TV and he was trying to duct tape it to the back of his bicycle. It’s quite comical to see the things people carry on the metro…mattresses, office chairs, and giant sacks of unknown objects.
The women who run my residencia are in incredible shape. They are all beautiful, full of spunk and over 60. (And all of them can beat me up the stairs without even getting their heart rate going I’m ashamed to admit) They all call me guapa, which I secretly love.